


growing pains

by theevilcleavage



Series: the ravens and the snakes [2]
Category: Elementary (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theevilcleavage/pseuds/theevilcleavage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter AU - Another year, another near-death experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	growing pains

Joan becomes a prefect in her sixth year, and with that title comes one fantastic benefit.

“Ten points from Slytherin.” 

It’s this moment that Joan lives for. It’s this moment that she looks forward to all day. If she’s being honest, it’s just about the only reason she became a prefect in the first place. Though, to be fair, she wouldn’t have to take so many house points away if the Slytherins would stop harassing the Hufflepuffs.

“But we were only talking,” Pansy Parkinson insists, looking to her fellow Slytherins for confirmation. 

“Sure you were,” Joan says. “So ten points from Slytherin, and another ten if you keep arguing with me.”

“But-”

“Back to your dormitory.”

Pansy Parkinson glares at her and turns sharply on her heel, her friends following behind her. Their victim is still standing against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

“Hey,” he says, face red with relief. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” 

“That’s the fifth time this week. Just glad it wasn’t Moriarty this time.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Jamie, tell me the truth.”

The younger girl scowls and refuses to look at Joan.

“You can’t just threaten other students like that.”

“I haven’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“Believe what you want.”

Joan sighs. This is going nowhere fast.

“Please stop messing with the first years.”

“No.”

“So you admit to it!”

“No.”

Sherlock reaches over the table and places a gentle hand on Jamie’s arm.

“If you tell us the truth,” he says. “What’s the worst that will happen?”

Jamie’s eyes flicker to Joan. 

“Ah. I see. Joan, please tell her that your friendship is not conditional.”

“Jamie, I’m not gonna hate you,” Joan says, grabbing the younger girl’s hand and squeezing it. “I promise.” Although she really hopes Jamie has a solid explanation for this.

After a minute, Jamie sighs and relents.

“All right, guilty as charged. But it isn’t what you think.”

“So you’ve been threatening younger kids for philanthropic purposes?”

“Watson, a little less sarcasm,” says Sherlock, but he’s grinning at her.

“I do not torment these students for the fun of it,” Jamie murmurs, twisting her quill in her hands. “They are a means to an end. I use them to obtain valuable information.”

“Wait,” Joan cuts in. “What kind of information?” 

“Now that,” Jamie says, a small smile playing on her lips. “Is not up for discussion.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

Sherlock shakes his head, scooting to the left so that Joan can squeeze in next to him. She is just in time for Lee Jordan’s introduction.

“Welcome to the first game of the season! It’s Slytherin against Hufflepuff, and I know who my money’s on! We’ll release the quaffle in a few minutes, so get ready for an exciting game. Will the Hufflepuffs comes out victorious, or will the Slytherins cheat their way to victory once again?”

“Mr. Jordan!”

“Sorry Professor McGonagall...”

“No,” Sherlock says. “I’m serious. It appears Jamie is the new Slytherin seeker.”

Joan wraps her arms around herself and squints at the players through the rain.

“I don’t see her.”

“Up there.” 

Sherlock points high above the Quidditch field. Sure enough, Jamie is hovering up there, perched comfortably on her broom.

“It’s a dangerous game, Sherlock. She might get hurt.”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t.”

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Even Dumbledore does not predict the wave of dementors that hit the Quidditch field.

Jamie is the first to fly into them, her hand outstretched to catch the snitch. But she loses consciousness before she can properly grab it, and then her broom is swept out from under her. 

……………………………………………………………………………………

“I can’t believe Dumbledore let that happen.”

Joan is standing outside of the hospital wing, face buried in her hands.

“The Ministry is at fault,” Sherlock points out. “Not Dumbledore. Ever since Sirius Black’s escape they’ve been surrounding possible hideouts with dementors.”

Joan thinks of Jamie, lying in the middle of the Quidditch field. 

“She could have died, Sherlock.”

“But she didn’t.”  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

By the time winter rolls around, Sirius Black’s face is on the cover of every wizarding newspaper in the country.

“Listen to this,” Sherlock says, fanning out the paper in front of him. “Sirius Black, known supporter of You Know Who, was responsible for the deaths of both John and Susan Moriarty.”

“What?”

Joan leans over to read the article, eyes flitting over the first few paragraphs.

“Does Jamie know?”

“I would assume so. But then, she never speaks of her family.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

There is a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year, which comes as a surprise to exactly no one. That teaching position has been cursed for years.

His name is Remus Lupin and, other than his frequent absences from class, he seems to be a pretty good choice for the job.

During one of his lessons with the third years, he introduces the students to boggarts. One by one, they step up and cast “Riddikulus” on their worst fears. Professor Snape appears for at least two of the students, and spiders seem to be a common phobia. But when it's Jamie’s turn, she is not met with either of those.

Instead, Jamie herself steps out of the closet, wearing the same Slytherin robes. She has the dark mark on her forearm and it begins to move as she smiles at her counterpart. After a moment she raises her wand and casts the killing curse.

Professor Lupin shoves Jamie out of the way.

“Expelliarmus!”

The boggart’s wand falls to the floor and Lupin forces it back into the closet.

“That’s enough for today,” he says quickly. “Class dismissed.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Joan is surprised to find Jamie in the Ravenclaw common room. It’s nearly midnight and classes start early tomorrow.

“Jamie, what are you-”

The younger girl rushes to her and they collide in the middle of the room. Jamie's arms wrap tightly around her waist, her head pressed against Joan’s chest. She’s getting taller. In a year she’ll be up to Joan’s chin.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Jamie shakes her head and clings tightly to Joan’s robes. 

It’s the first time Joan has seen her like this, completely unraveled, and she presses a gentle kiss to Jamie’s temple.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

They sleep in the same bed that night, even though it’s kind of against the rules.

The other Ravenclaw girls have seen Jamie hanging around the dormitory before, so they don’t make a big fuss.

Jamie is still clinging to Joan by the time she falls asleep, face buried in Joan’s neck.

But Joan is up all night, running her fingers through Jamie’s hair and wondering what the hell happened to her. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jamie has started drawing more often.

She mostly uses Joan as her subject (something about Joan’s face being perfectly symmetrical), and so she’ll watch as Joan does homework and draw the outline of her face with her quill.

“You should really find something better to draw with,” Joan says once, as she peeks at one of Jamie’s sketches. “The ink is bleeding through the parchment.”

"Well it's the only writing utensil I have."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

December 25th rolls around soon enough.

She buys Jamie the perfect present for Christmas: a large muggle art kit, complete with charcoal, acrylics, and oils. After Jamie tears past the wrapping paper, she stares at it for a long time.

“I can show you how to use them, if you’ve never seen them before. I just thought you might like drawing with something other than a quill.”

“No, I-”, Jamie pauses, holding one of the new brushes in her fingers. “I know what they are. I’ve heard of them.”

And now Joan feels self-conscious. Jamie’s a pureblood. Of course she won’t appreciate getting muggle painting supplies for Christmas, no matter how interested she seems in muggle life.

She is about to apologize and take back the gift, but then Jamie leans forward and kisses her. It only lasts a second, innocent enough, and Jamie lingers for a moment after, blonde hair tickling Joan’s face.

“Thank you,” she says. “It’s perfect.” 

Joan quickly averts her gaze, because Jamie is staring at her really intensely and this whole thing has kind of gotten out of hand. 

“You’re welcome.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Sherlock balks at her.

“She’s barely fourteen.”

“Okay, it’s not like I initiated it.”

“But you allowed it.”

“Kind of.”

He sighs.

“Watson, I must insist-”

“Look,” Joan says, and she turns in her chair to face him. “It really wasn’t like that.”

“Tell that to Jamie.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Later in the year, Jamie makes a new friend.

A real one, not a lackey, and miraculously it isn’t a Slytherin. Joan teases her mercilessly about it.

“Hermione Granger? That’s who you’ve been hanging out with?”

Jamie scowls.

“We aren’t friends.”

“Really? Because last weekend you went to Hogsmeade together and now you’re studying with her for Potions.”

“She’s very bright,” Sherlock cuts in, looking up from his book. “Brilliant minds are few and far between. They need one another to survive.” And he shares a small, significant look with Jamie.

After a moment, Joan reaches over and squeezes Jamie’s hand, because she gets that sometimes being different isn’t so fun.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone you like.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It’s Hermione who riddles out Lupin’s secret.

But by then it’s too late, and she and Jamie are already cornered by Sirius in the Shrieking Shack.

Joan only hears about all of it afterwards, once Peter Pettigrew has escaped and Sirius Black is off living as a fugitive. 

“So Pettigrew betrayed your parents.”

“Yes,” Jamie says, though she doesn’t elaborate any more on that. Hermione runs a hand through her hair and flips her time-turner over in her hands.

Joan chooses not to ask about that. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

It is only as they’re saying goodbye for the summer that Jamie finally mentions the boggart.

Joan is upstairs packing and Jamie is left alone in the common room with Sherlock. The story comes out in a mess of words and hand gestures and Sherlock processes them as best he can.

“The dark mark,” he murmurs. “And the killing curse.”

“So,” Jamie says, eyes boring into him. “What does that make me?”

“It was only a manifestation of your fears. It doesn’t make you a murderer.”

Jamie shakes her head, her fingers moving to her wrist and brushing against her scar.

“I could kill a man and I wouldn’t feel a thing. No empathy, no regret. And so could you, if I’m not mistaken.”

Sherlock smiles a bit.

“Yes. But I would never go through with it.”

“Why?”

He sighs, his eyes flickering towards the staircase.

“For one thing, because I don't want to. And...because Watson would never forgive me.”

He is surprised when Jamie leans forward, grabbing at his arm desperately.

“Is that how you learned to become one of them, then? By looking at your actions through the eyes of another.”

Sherlock shakes his head, watching Joan tug her suitcase down the stairs.

“I’m not sure I am one of them.”

………………………………………………………………………………….

Before they part ways for the summer, Jamie hands Joan her latest painting.

It’s another portrait, of course, but this time Jamie and Sherlock are beside her in the image.

“So you’ll think of us over the summer,” she says. “So you won’t forget.”

Joan tucks the painting safely away in her suitcase and smiles.

“I could never.”


End file.
